Halemore Scenes
by moodycactus
Summary: Short scenes of Derek and Jackson in a relationship together. No crouching Stiles, hidden Isaac. Just pure unadulterated Halemore. Okay maybe Peter might make an appearance but that's about it. Very easy to skip if thats not your thing. Diverting from canon after season two. Some drabbles are AU's from various films.
1. Black Swan AU

Black Swan AU

* * *

Jackson burst into the studio, stormed right up to Derek and thrust a piece of paper in his face. "What is this?" he hissed.

"It's a casting announcement," Derek stated. He seemed so nonchalant in his black sweats and singlet.

"I know that! It has my name in the wrong slot. I'm the Principal dancer. I'm too good to be a second soloist. Tell me there's been a mistake."

Derek folded his arms. "No."

Jackson's jaw twitched. "My turn out is perfect. My technique is flawless. I've never even dropped any of the girls."

"You're also short and too restrained. So uptight and controlled." Derek turned away but Jackson blocked him off.

"I can do everything that Lahey can do and more!" he said between grit teeth, his fists clenched.

Derek advanced in close to Jackson, invading his personal space. "Your form might be perfect but it lacks soul; passion. Isaac is so light and free. He doesn't keep everything repressed like you do.

"I can change," muttered Jackson. He felt strange with Derek so close but he refused to back down.

"Dance is more than than technique," continued Derek. He prodded Jackson's chest, just above his heart. "It's expression. It's passion. All you have is ambition, no heat."

Jackson caught Derek's hand. Cold blue eyes met hazel-green. Jackson began to push Derek's hand down along his torso. His stomach was turning cartwheels but he wasn't going to lose face. He couldn't. "I've got passion," he whispered.

Derek seemed transfixed, unable to do anything but watch his hand travel further down Jackson's body.

"Should I stop?" asked Jackson, when Derek's hand reached his waistband.

"No," growled Derek. He shoved Jackson against the wall, and ground up against him while he ravaged the youth's neck. Jackson looked out over Derek's shoulder and smiled. He'd won


	2. Teen Wolf Verse

Teen Wolf Verse - I should explain that Teen Wolf Verse diverts from canon after the end of s2.

* * *

Derek winced as he sank down on the bed next to Jackson.

"Aww, did the big bad alpha pack beat you up?" teased Jackson.

"Screw you! I'm in actual pain here." Derek kicked off his shoes and carefully laid his head back on the pillow.

"It's your fault for taking loser McCall and not me," said Jackson, shifting to move off the bed.

Derek grabbed at Jackson's arm. "No, stay. I need a massage."

"A massage?!" Jackson snorted. "Har har, I don't think so buddy."

"So you'll hit me up for booty calls and suck my dick, but a massage is asking too much?"

A cocky grin played on Jackson's lips. "I do sex, not the 'Boyfriend Experience'. That's what 'no strings' means."

"What a load of crap." Derek knew they were boyfriends in everything but name. He gingerly rolled onto his front. "Massage. Now."

There was a moment of silence. "Ugh fine. Where do you keep the damned oil?" sighed Jackson. "Don't know why I always get stuck with the demanding ones," he grumbled.


	3. Teen Wolf Verse - 2

Teen Wolf Verse

* * *

The music blared loudly, assaulting Derek's senses. Sweaty men kept bumping into him on the darkly lit dancefloor. A nightclub was the last place Derek wanted to be but Jackson was at the The Jungle, playing his stupid games.

He spotted Jackson across the room, all smiles and charm with another man. The stranger was tall and blonde with this annoyingly refined manner. Like he came from the wealth and privilege that Jackson so desperately aspired to. Derek scowled and shoved at a dancer that bumped him. He knew Jackson was just trying to make him jealous, a little payback for some imagined slight.

Two could play that game.

Derek slowly pulled at the zipper that was slashed across his chest, exposing his nipples. Across the room, Jackson's smile faltered. But only for a moment. Jackson leaned in to close the blonde man's ear, whispering something while his hand slipped in along the man's side.

Derek closed his eyes, letting the thumping music throb down his spine, settling somewhere near his pelvis. He began to move in time with the heavy beat underneath the music. Precise yet slow, sensual movements that made his muscles flex and stretch. Dancers crowded in close, grinding up against him.

Derek glanced over at Jackson. He was staring at Derek, his jaw clenched tight, completely ignoring his blonde friend.

Hands roamed his waist, pulling at his shirt. Derek whipped it off in a fluid movement. People cheered. Someone pinched his nipple. Derek grinned, his hand sliding down to pull at his belt.

Jackson shoved his way through the crowd, pushing guys away from Derek. "Ok that's it. Back the fuck off everyone. Who do you think you are with that goatee? Chris Pine? Go home and shave that thing off. "

Derek's admirers dispersed, Jackson scowled at Derek and captured his lips in a rough kiss. "You win, alright? Now why don't you show me the rest of those moves back home."


	4. Blind Date AU

Blind Date AU (film) An ambitious executive, out to impress a business client, is set up on a blind date with a gorgeous man who comes with a warning - do not let him drink.

* * *

Jackson cursed under his breath. He was never the sort of person who went on blind dates, let alone needed one. But what Lydia Martin asked for, she got. If he wanted her company's contract, he'd have to babysit her problem client, Derek Hale.

The man in question, sat across from him, devouring his steak. He was handsome - if you like them scruffy, tall, dark and muscle-bound. Jackson certainly liked the attention and envious looks from the other diners. But Derek made conversation a chore. Replying with grunts or one word answers.

Jackson caught a passing waiter's eye. "A glass of your best red - no wait, bring a bottle."

Derek glared at him from across the table. "I know that you're aware booze is an issue for me."

"Well, someone's making tonight a long night," said Jackson, a false smile stretched across his face.

"Says the man who thinks talking about himself makes for riveting conversation," replied Derek, in-between mouthfuls.

Jackson stabbed at a carrot on his plate. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware there was a topic you wanted to discuss. Too busy stuffing your gob to contribute to the conversation.""

"I'm a simple man with simple needs. Good food, good booze, good sex." said Derek, listing off on thick fingers.

Jackson leaned back in his chair and shot Derek a smug smile. "Well, the last two aren't on offer tonight. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Who said I'd even choose you? You're too pretty to be my type."

" _I'm everyone's type!_ " snapped Jackson.


	5. Teen Wolf Verse - 3

Teen Wolf Verse

* * *

The hot summer sun baked down on Jackson's neck. He could feel himself sweating already, despite only wearing a pair of speedos. Jackson scowled in the direction of the change rooms. What was taking him so long?

"Hurry up!" Jackson called out. "It's getting hot out here!"

"It's not going to fit," Derek said under his breath, just audible to Jackson's werewolf hearing.

"Just put it on or I won't do that thing you like tonight," muttered Jackson.

There was a huff in response. Moments later, Derek emerged from the change rooms, shirtless and with his beach towel wrapped tight around his waist.

Derek glared at Jackson. "Happy now?"

"Nope." Jackson tugged Derek's towel away, leaving him exposed in those bulging tight black speedos. "Now I am."

Derek went to grab at the towel but Jackson jerked away.

Jackson smirked and flexed his abs, giving passers-by a show. "Do you want them just staring at me?"

"No," grumbled Derek. "You shithead."

" _Your_ shithead," corrected Jackson.

Derek ducked his head, trying hide his grin. "Bet I'll beat you to the water!"


	6. PR AU

PR Nightmare AU. Jackson and Derek are normal humans and a bit older, working in the corporate sector.

* * *

"Lydia, I can't talk right now. I'm about to meet your client…..Yes, that big fish." Jackson smirked to himself as he walked through the vast lobby, all polished marble and glossy designer furniture. He was one of top PR consultants in the country, he excelled at making people look good. "You doubt I can tame the beast? If I had feelings, I'd be hurt. Really. Gotta go hun." Jackson switched off his earpiece and ducked into the elevator.

He pressed the button for the top floor and checked his hair for the umpteenth time in the black glass. His hair of course, was perfect, his pale grey suit impeccably tailored, Saville Row of course; he looked every inch the exorbitant fee he was going charge for taking on the PR nightmare otherwise known as Derek Hale. His colleagues and gossip columnists might think Derek Hale was a lost cause with his drunken outbursts, dour personality and complete lack of social skills, but they didn't have Jackson's ambition. He was determined to wear Derek down into the public figurehead he needed to be.

The elevator chimed and open softly. An immaculately groomed assistant greeted him, dressed head to toe in black. "Welcome Mr Whittemore. Mr Hale is expecting you. If you could please follow me."

They heard a man shouting as they walked down the hall. "For the last time: Fuck. No! I don't have time for this crap. You want me to run a company? Fine. But I won't waste my time playing dress up with whatever asshat you and Lydia hired!"

Then someone infinitely more calm replied. "I know you're still grieving but you are ruining the company's reputation, Derek. If you keep going like you are now, soon there won't be much of a firm to lead left. Give him a chance, I'm sure he'll have more to say than which color is best for your ties."

The assistant shot Jackson a sympathetic smile and knocked on the door. "Mr. Whittemore is here," she said, shooting Derek a quick and shy glance.

"Uncle, no, I'll-" Derek started, but Peter interrupted him. "Excellent. Send him in." The secretary nodded and left.

Peter immediately walked over to Jackson and shook his hand. "I believe we've already discussed all the details in our correspondence. I expect absolute discretion, but I'm sure Ms Martin's already explained that. I would love to stay for a chat, Mr. Whittemore, but I must apologize. I have a client to meet, so I will just leave you with my nephew for now and I'll check in later." With that Peter shook his hand again and excused himself, returning Derek's murderous gaze with a wink.

The door fell shut behind Peter and a tense silence fell between them, Mr Hale sullenly quiet and shut down. Jackson wondered which approach to take. The best way to get someone to do what you want, is to make them want it too. Best to be direct.

He cleared his throat. "Mr Hale, why do you think I am here?" He paused, letting the question hover in the air. He pulled out his ipad, and played a video of Derek's drunken meltdown at the charity gala. "This is why I am here. As you already know, this video's gone viral. You're a national joke and what's worse is that your problem, has become your family's problem. How many points do you want the company's stock to drop? How much of a drop can it take?" Jackson's locked eyes with Derek, unafraid of the volatile, bigger man. "If you care anything for your parents' legacy, you will let me help you. Check into rehab, redeem yourself to your family and the public."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You are here because my uncle has made it his one and only life goal to turn my life into living h-" The video had gotten to it's most embarrassing moment. A half-naked Derek was seen drunkenly dry humping a parking meter. Derek sighed and looked away.

Jackson brought up the rehab's website on his ipad. "It's not so bad. It's private and by the beach. I'll go with you to assist with media training." He arched a brow at Derek, waiting for his response.

Derek snapped his head back at Jackson, rage etched into his face. "Rehab?" he repeated as if the word itself had offended him gravely. "I hope you are joking or else I'm gonna give you ten seconds to excuse yourself before I throw you out the window. I will not check into anything. If this is your great idea of polishing up my image you are even worse at your job than I expected," he spat out.

Derek seemed quite angry, like he might launch himself across the desk. but that didn't bother Jackson in the slightest. He smiled brightly at the other man, egging him on. His polished composure was his weapon.

"Yes, Mr Hale, rehab. The public view you as having a problem, therefore going to rehab, in the public's eyes, would be the first step to atonement. Whether you think you have a problem or not; whether you want to go or not, is irrelevant. Now if you do not, there will be consequences, rather unpleasant ones for yourself. The choice is yours. Continue your self destructive downward spiral, or let me help you. Which is it?"

Derek stared at him for a moment, then exhaled heavily. "Where is this rehab place anyway?" he asked, making a grab for the ipad.

"Twelve Keys, Florida. I should add that you can request someone else, but I'm the best."

"And miss all the fun of watching you suffer in Florida?" sneered Derek. "That's half the fun."

"Excellent, rehab's a good start," said Jackson, struggling not to give Derek the reaction he wanted.

Derek chuckled. "Oh you have no idea," he said with a dangerous glint in his eye.

Just what was he planning, wondered Jackson.


	7. PR AU 2

Following on from the PR Nightmare AU. Slight NFSW

* * *

Jackson scowled to himself in the shower. The generic shower products were full of awful chemicals and no doubt already drying his skin out. Honestly, it felt like the whole rehab facility was a test on his patience. A personal purgatory.

Being treated like every other inpatient was his idea. A ploy to make Derek feel like they were on the same team. Get him to trust him. But it was only the first day, and Jackson was already regretting hand over his expensive toiletries. Apparently, inpatients were desperate enough to drink cologne and mouthwash for the alcohol. Other liquids could smuggle in other substances, so they all were replaced with the rehab facility's dreadfully generic 'safe' products.

He finished up in the shower and reached out for a towel. Where was his clothes? The tiny en-suite bathroom was empty, his clothes vanished.

Cursing, Jackson jammed the towel around his waist and opened the door to his room. His suitcase was gone from where he'd left it.

"Fucking Derek Hale" muttered Jackson. No doubt Mr Grumpybum had something to do with it. Jackson sighed and picked up the phone to call Reception.

He wore a shiny hawaiian shirt, the synthetic fibres made Jackson skin itch and the baggy, brightly coloured board shorts swooshed as he stormed down the hall to Derek's room. They were the only things the woman at Front Desk could find for him to wear. Stupid old bat.

He burst into Derek's room, not bothering to knock. Jackson scanned the room, ignoring Derek sprawled out on his bed, in grey shorts and singlet. Jackson's suitcase was nowhere to be seen.

"Like the new look," teased Derek.

"It's not here," said Jackson, ignoring him.

"What's not here?" asked Derek, his face the very picture of innocence. Too innocent, thought Jackson.

"Cut the bs. I know you took my stuff in some juvenile attempt at revenge. But that's alright. I can buy more."

"Where? At the tiki bar?"

Jackson shot a smile that was more Screw You than friendly. "You mock the shirt? Fine, I'll take it off." He pulled off his shirt in one fluid movement and tossed it to the floor. "It was itchy anyway."

Derek didn't reply, just stared at him with that unreadable expression of his.

"Right, well now that I have your attention, we can talk about the press conference I scheduled this week. Roll your eyes all you like but the public needs to see you as contrite, especially with the company's annual reports coming up. So you will present a check to that charity you wronged, your eyes will be downcast. You will meek and tail-between-your-legs mild mannered in front of those cameras."

"Oh for fucks sake!" snarled Derek. "Would you like to shove your hand up my ass and use me as your puppet?"

"There will be no crass or crude language," continued Jackson, not letting himself be baited. "You will shave off all that messy stubble and wear a suit. Which reminds me. I need to take your measurements."

He was rewarded with another eye roll. "Ugh, fine," said Derek, dragging himself off the bed.

Jackson got out his measuring tape and set to work. Derek's bare arms were distractingly muscled and the man gave off this musky scent that…

Jackson forced himself to focus. "Right. Now your waist," he said, slipping the tape around Derek's waist.

Derek pressed in a little closer. "You know you could have just asked, if you wanted to get close to me."

"That would hardly be professional conduct." Jackson jotted down the measurement and got down on his knees, by Derek's feet.

"Could show you something hard," muttered Derek.

Jackson nearly dropped his tape. "Vulgarity is no substitute for wit," he said primly, glad that Derek couldn't see his blushing face.

He brought the tape up Derek's inseam, his hand wavering slightly. There was a rather large bulge jutting out in Derek's shorts.

Jackson jerked his hand away. "Oh my god, you have a boner!"

Derek grinned, brazenly unashamed. "Well, I did warn you."

He knew he should do something to take control of the situation, but Jackson simply couldn't move away from Derek's package. It was just right there in front of him, close to his face.

"Like what you see huh?" murmured Derek. He used his hand to flatten down his shorts, showing off the line of his impressive hard cock. "You're a shit, but you might as well make yourself useful while you're down there."

There was a hundred and one reasons why he shouldn't even consider it but Jackson couldn't stop himself from reaching up. Fuck it. He could regret it tomorrow.


	8. Teen Wolf Verse - 4

Back to regular Teen Wolf Verse. Derek's PoV for a change.

* * *

Derek woke with a smile on his face, his nose already making him aware that Jackson still lay beside him.

He seemed so much younger in his sleep. Jackson usually gave off so much hostility and bluster that it was easy to forget just how young he was. Soft, supple, unmarked skin that covered a leanly muscled body. A body that in the past few weeks Derek had come to learn every soft curve and every hard plane.

Derek reached out and traced his finger along Jackson's jawline. It was strong and dominant like Jackson's stubborn nature. He knew from experience those full, fleshy lips of Jackson's denoted a lusty, passionate side. That lightly freckled nose hinted at a fragility, a softness that Jackson worked so hard to hide, just like he hid those freckles from the world. Those eyebrows-

"What are you looking at?" asked Jackson, snapping his eyes open.

"You, and your caterpillar eyebrows."

"Ha! Look at your own caterpillar eyebrows," teased Jackson, a grin playing on his lips.

Derek didn't reply. He pulled Jackson in close and slid his thigh over the youth, grinding his morning wood against him.

"Mhmmm," moaned Jackson. He jerked his face away from Derek's mouth, not allowing even a single kiss. "You think I'm gonna hook up with my perving stalker?"

"Stalker? I seem to recall someone slipping into my bed last night." Derek's hand roamed down to cup that cute ass while he nibbled at Jackson's ear. Jackson shivered and ground his hard cock against Derek's. Pleasure rippled through Derek's body.  
"You came for me," murmured Derek.

"No, I came for a fuck. You're just the easiest option. Now give it up big boy." Jackson shoved his hand down between them, seeking out Derek's dick. Derek caught the offending hand and pinned it down above Jackson's head.

"You like me, admit it." Derek leaned in closer, his mouth seeking out Jackson's.

"Nope, only here for sex," said Jackson, twisting his face away.

Derek pulled away to scowl at Jackson.

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Ugh. Disappointed I'm not sweet on you? That I'm not out there carving our names in a tree? Well run home and cry to Mommy, coz that's not gonna happen."

Derek flinched. It was like being doused with a bucket of cold water. He pulled away from Jackson, and sat up. How dare he mention his dead mother?!

"Get out," he growled, unable even look at Jackson right now.

Jackson cursed under his breath. "Derek, I'm sorry. I'm a fuckwit for saying that, even for me."

Derek kept his back to him, fighting the urge to throttle Jackson.

Jackson sighed. "I'm fucked up alright? It's just… I just….How you even look at me? You know what I did to those people-"

"That was Matt," said Derek, still facing away.

"Still, I wouldn't have even turned into a freakin kanima if i wasn't a headcase. Course I wouldn't be a werewolf when i can't even be a Whittemore."

Derek turned around and shot Jackson a quizzical look.

"Oh please, I know everyone gossips about me being adopted. Jackson the fake Whittemore. I try so hard to be like them, to fit in. Be deserving of the name. I'm just never good enough."

Derek was shocked. Jackson never talked about his feelings, let alone his family. He remained silent, unsure how to respond.

"Fuck knows my real parents. Who gives up their baby? White trash, junkies, rape victims." A bitter smile spread across Jackson's face. "Hell, maybe I'm a fucking incest baby."

"Jackson..." Derek reached out to him, but Jackson pulled away.

"Don't. I hurt people that get close to me. Ask Lydia."

He made another grab for Jackson, this time managing to pull him into a tight embrace. Jackson buried his face into Derek's neck.

He started to run his hand along Jackson's bare back, trying to soothe the tension out of him. "You're talking a lot of shit," muttered Derek.

He was rewarded with a muffled half-hearted "Fuck you."

"You don't need to be Jackson Whittemore. You can be Jackson, member of the Hale pack. My first beta. Jackson, Danny's best buddy. Jackson, my sexy underage boyfriend."

"You're good enough for me," he whispered in Jackson's ear.

Jackson looked up to face him, his blue eyes red and shining. They stared at each other for a moment.

"I'm only underage for a couple more months," blurted out Jackson.

Derek chuckled and leaned in for a kiss. This time Jackson let him.


	9. Teen Wolf Verse - 5

This chapter has two scene because one of them is too short to have it's own solo chapter. Both are explicit and have Derek & Jackson in an established relationship of sorts. First drabble is just standard Halemore. Second is Halemore with a touch of Peter. So if vaguely incest-related stuff isn't your thing, just don't scroll past the asterisks. :)

* * *

Jackson felt Derek tremble above him and quickly pulled back on Derek's cock. His tongue swirled around the head of it while he sucked down. A hand dug roughly into his hair.

Derek grunted one last time. He felt Derek's cock shudder out it's thick load, filling his mouth with salty cum, despite Jackson swallowing a few times. He inhaled deeply through his nose, overloaded with Derek's musk and taste but still determined to take everything Derek offered.

Derek finally collapsed against the hood of the car, his skin a sweaty sheen, his body spent. "My god," he gasped.

Jackson stood up and stretched out his cramped legs, his smug grin back in place. "Told you I look after what's mine."

Derek stared at him with wide eyes, his chest heaving. "You swallowed… _all_ of it?"

"Don't act so surprised. I have a rep to maintain after all." Jackson shot Derek a cheeky grin, and allowed himself to be pulled in close. Derek pressed against him, all hot and sweaty.

"Not that I'm complaining about the taste, but do you have any gum?" asked Jackson.

* * *

 ***** * *** Second Drabble * * ***

* * *

It was late that night when they got back home at Derek's. They were barely inside before Derek shoved Jackson against the wall and peppered him with kisses. The loft was dark except for a pool of light over by the stairs leading up to Peter's room.

Jackson could feel Derek's hardness already jutting up against him while they kissed. His gaze flicked back to the stairs. The light was still on. "Stop it!" he said, shoving Derek off him. "You stink of garlic."

"So do you," huffed Derek.

Jackson ignored him and stalked off to Derek's room. It was more a corner space, than a room. Hardly private. He didn't want an audience for what Derek had in mind. He switched the bedside lamp on and was kicking off his shoes when he felt arms slide around his waist and lips nuzzled along his neck. A hand pawed at his crotch. Jackson slapped it away and shifted away from Derek.

Derek crossed his arms. "I haven't seen you all week and you choose now to play hard to get?"

"It's called _Final's Week._ Or didn't they have that back in your era?"

Derek glared at him.

"Besides," continued Jackson, sarcastic grin in place. "I'm so tired from practice today."

"Horse-shit! You were broadcasting arousal scents all evening. You're horny and you want it bad."

Jackson snorted and rolled his eyes. "Wishful thinking, much?" He turned his back on Derek and took off his shirt. "Why don't you go rub one out in a cold shower or something."

Jackson found himself flung down on the bed. "Hey! Don-"" Derek captured his mouth with his own, silencing him while he tried to pin Jackson's hands down. Their hands wrestled for control, Jackson's dirty fighting tricks a near match for Derek's alpha strength.

"Ow! Stop that!" grunted Derek, lying half on top of Jackson. "Take off your damn jeans or I'll rip them off!"

"Don't you dare! They cost more than your entire wardrobe!"

Derek's eyes glowed red in the dimly lit room. "Why the fuck does everything have to be so difficult with you? Can't things be easy just for once?"

Jackson scowled back up at Derek. "Oh I'm sorry, if it's easy you want, you should have gone home with that _flaming gay waiter_ who was shamelessly flirting with you all night!"

"So that's what this is all about. You're jealous!" laughed Derek.

"As if I'd be jealous of a _waiter_ ," sneered Jackson. He was in fact jealous of anyone who dared look at his boyfriend for too long but he'd never admit that to Derek. He'd never hear the end of it. Jackson pushed Derek off him so he could work his jeans off.

Derek smiled and quickly shucked off his own clothes. He was going commando, of course.

Jackson spied the impressive boner Derek was still sporting. But he fought back the urge to touch Derek. Jackson couldn't concede, he just wouldn't give the man the satisfaction. "No, nothing's going to happen tonight," he said, moving to lie down on the bed.

Derek sighed. He came up next to Jackson, his hands roaming the other's prone body.

"Take off your briefs," ordered Derek.

Jackson opened his mouth to say no, but thought better of it when he saw the look on Derek's face. If he pushed him too far, Derek might lose his patience and kick him out.

Jackson avoided Derek's gaze and slipped off his briefs. Derek crowded in close, his breath hot on Jackson's skin. He pushed Jackson down flat on the bed. Derek began to kiss his way down Jackson's torso, his stubbled lips tickling Jackson's skin.

Jackson couldn't help but be aroused. He craved Derek all week and now to have him right there, in such limited contact; it was almost torture. A hot mouth enclosed around his cock. Pleasure flooded Jackson's senses. Still, an increasingly distant part of Jackson's mind was aware of a third heart beat, Peter, who was obviously still awake.

"Derek…"

A hand cuffed at Jackson's mouth, trying to silence him. Jackson grabbed a fistful of Derek's hair and pulled him off his cock.

"Derek, Peter's still awake," he whispered.

"So what if he hears us?" muttered Derek. "He's bi."

His response baffled Jackson but Derek didn't allow him much time to think. His greedy mouth already back sucking at Jackson's hard cock. It felt so good that he almost didn't hear the footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Stop! He's coming downstairs!" hissed Jackson, trying to pull Derek off him.

Derek shoved Jackson back down. "Shut up for once in your life,"

"I heard my name mentioned," came Peter's mild voice. Peter appeared in the lamp's dim light. He was shirtless and wore only a loose pair of sweatpants. "Hope I'm not intruding, Derek."

"No," replied Derek. "Nothing much was happening anyway," he said, scowling at Jackson. He seemed completely fine with being caught nude in front of his uncle.

Jackson wiggled out from Derek's grasp and slipped under the bed's covers. Derek growled and tugged the covers off, kicking them off the bed.

"You should feel no shame," said Peter. "No need to cover that fine body on my account."

Jackson stared at Peter. Too shocked to speak. Was that an erection in those sweatpants?

"Peter and I used to fool around together with others, back in the day," said Derek, his tone matter of fact. Jackson shot Derek a look. What the hell?

Peter came closer to the bed, "It's no big deal, we're both tops so..." He gave a little shrug. Jackson could smell the man's musky arousal mingling with Derek's. It was intoxicating.

"What do you say?" asked Peter.

Derek stroked Jackson's back. "It's up to you, Jacks."

Jackson flicked back to Peter. He might be older but he was still very handsome and kept himself in great shape. More importantly, Jackson wanted to do everything that Derek's past lovers had done. No one was going to show him up, even if it was with the sometimes scary Peter Hale.

"Sure, why not?" Jackson had his cocky grin back in place. "Let's see if you can keep up, old man."

Peter just smiled and looked over at Derek. "Down for a D.P. tonight?"

"D.P.? Is that like short for Derek Peter?" asked Jackson.

Derek chuckled, a wicked glint in his eye. "How about we show you?"


End file.
